


Sitting, Waiting, Wishing

by bluecurls



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint Feels, Darcy Feels, Darcy Lewis-centric, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 17:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10313687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluecurls/pseuds/bluecurls
Summary: This takes place post-Civil War. Clint still has his secret farm from Age of Ultron, but Laura and the kids do not exist, and the team never visited, though Natasha probably knows about it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: “Who wouldn’t be angry? You’ve been missing for three years and you ate all my cereal!” 
> 
> I shortened it to three months.

Darcy Lewis didn’t like mornings -- not because they insisted on starting so early, though that did play a small part in her repugnance. No, mornings were a cruel reminder that she was alone. Still.

Her sigh was heavy as she pushed the faded comforter to the foot of the bed that still felt too big for one person. She stretched, ignoring the creak in her elbows as she lifted her arms over her head. She plucked her cell phone from the nightstand and checked for messages. There were none. There never were. At first, she was thankful -- no news is good news and all that -- but as days turned into weeks and weeks became months, the silence was practically deafening.

* * *

" _I gotta go.” Clint’s words were brisk as stomped on the phone, the heel of his battered cowboy boots grounding it to pieces. He nudged the mess aside on his way to the overstuffed bookcase by the flat screen TV, pushing it away from the wall as if it weighed nothing to reveal a safe. Darcy watched wordlessly as he loaded weapons into the black duffle bag at his feet. “Cap needs me.”_

_She wasn’t an idiot. Coverage of Captain America’s reunion with the Winter Soldier dominated the news cycle. Part of her had been waiting for the call ever since the latter’s profile appeared on TV. “When do we leave?”_

_That got him to slow down, the lethargic “I’m retired; it’ll get done when it gets done” Clint Barton replaced by Hawkeye the second he answered the untraceable call. He crossed the room and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Darce – “_

_She stiffened automatically. “Don’t you dare ask me to stay behind.”_

_“I’m not asking. I’m telling.”_

_She pushed his hands away. “Dammit, Barton!”_

_“This isn’t a game, Darcy!”_

_“It’s never a game! Aliens! Frost giants! Loki! All of that was fucking real!”_

_“This is different!”_

_“Why?”_

_He ran his fingers through his dirty blond hair. He needed a trim. He usually went to the barbershop in town. He said it was in support of small businesses. She knew it was for the gossip. Nothing happened in a 20-mile radius without Farley knowing the details._

_“Clint?”_

_He turned back to the back, zipping it closed. “That wasn’t Nat on the phone.”_

_“What?” Natasha was the only person from the team Clint still talked to after Ultron. If she wasn’t the one to reach out to him now … “Shit. Is she OK?”_

_“She’s fine. She sided with Stark on this one.”_

_Darcy started laughing, the idea that Natasha Romanov would take Tony Stark’s side in anything beyond ridiculous. Clint didn’t crack a smile. “Are you serious?”_

_He didn’t respond, just ran up the stairs two at a time. Darcy could hear his steps overhead as he walked into their bedroom. Shit. Natasha really was on Tony’s side. That meant she supported the accords. Darcy didn’t know the woman that well, but she understood she still had guilt about what she’d done during her time with the Red Room. Apparently everything she’d done with SHIELD and the Avengers still wasn’t enough to wipe her ledger clean. In her eyes, anyway._

_Darcy could see both sides of the issue. She argued each with Clint after he spoke to Natasha the first time. He let her rant, and then refused to discuss it further, telling everyone he was retired when pushed. Even then, Darcy knew it was only a matter of time before he was dragged back in; she just assumed the world would be ending first._

_“How illegal are we talking here?” Darcy asked when he walked downstairs, bow in hand._

_Clint set his bow on the coffee table and tugged Darcy to the battered leather La-Z-Boy recliner. He pulled her into his lap and buried his face in her neck, his breath warm on her skin. She said nothing, choosing instead to run her fingers through his hair. She had no idea when Thor crashed to earth that her life would get so fucked up so fast, but all it took was one alien invasion. Well, one alien invasion followed by a second, then the discovery that a secret government agency was actually operated by Nazi-like terrorists, and the next thing she knew, all said secret government agency files were all over the Internet and the archer she had a one night stand with years before was in London, telling her to come with him if she wanted to live._

_Actually, his words were “Get in the fucking car, Lewis!” but same thing._

_“If I knew how to reach Thor, I would,” Clint said now._

_Darcy shrugged. The demigod had been unreachable since Ultron tried to destroy the world. Jane had eventually wiped her hands of the situation, content to unravel all the secrets the universe still had locked away. She accepted Darcy’s resignation with little reluctance. “So I stay low. It’s what I do.”_

_Clint hugged her tighter. She knew he was grappling with self-doubt, his whole I’m-not-good-for-you-and-you-deserve-better angst battling with the fact that they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. He hated that Natasha’s plan to expose SHIELD put Darcy in danger. Stark had deleted her file, wiping out all associations with Thor and Jane and Selvig, but there was always the possibility that he wasn’t quick enough. Clint wasn’t willing to take chances. Thank Thor a girl could make a living working from home as long as her Internet connection was good._

_“You know the contingencies.” His voice was muffled against her skin._

_She nodded._

_“If I don’t make it back …”_

_She didn’t answer._

_“Darcy.” He pulled away. “It’s always a chance. You know that. We aren’t fighting aliens this time. We’re up against our own teammates and every known law enforcement agency in the world.” He grimaced. “And a few others even I’m not supposed to know about.”_

_“What happens if you get caught?”_

_“I don’t plan on finding out.” His smile was nostalgic as he tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “Now kiss me good bye. I’ll be home soon.”_

* * *

Darcy tossed her phone aside and forced herself to sit up. She could do this. She could get through another day. It’s not like she had a choice. Whatever happened at the superheroes showdown, no one was saying, and what little hacking Darcy was able to get away with and still remain off the grid revealed nothing.

She pulled on one of Clint’s flannels over her gray tank top and cotton sleep shorts before digging a pair of fuzzy socks out of the dresser drawer. She tugged them on -- the scarred wooden floors of the farmhouse always chilly in the morning -- and grabbed a ponytail holder from the top of the dresser, twisting her hair into a loose bun as she shuffled to the stairs.

The scent of coffee hit her before she was halfway down the staircase. She froze. She didn’t have an automatic coffeemaker. She wanted one, thought about going on Amazon and buying one, but hadn’t gotten around to it. She tiptoed down the last of the stairs, avoiding the creaky one on the bottom. She looked around the living room for a weapon, her eyes falling on the metal poker near the fireplace. She inched toward it and held her breath as she carefully slid it out of the coal black holder. She gripped it in her hand and tiptoed to the kitchen. She rested her hand on the swinging door and took a deep breath before she raised the fireplace poker over her head and pushed the door open.

“Freeze you son of a bitch!”

Clint dropped his spoon in the cereal bowl, the metal clanking against porcelain as he raised his arms over his head. “Honey, I’m home?”

The fireplace poker fell to the floor with a clang as she leapt forward, ignoring his grunt of surprise as she pressed her lips to his in a bruising kiss just this side of painful.

“Darcy,” he moaned her name softly as she pulled away, his head snapping back as she slapped him. “What the hell?!”

“You bastard!” She smacked her hands against his chest and pushed, feeling a perverse sense of pride when he stumbled back a step. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“What am I … I live here!”

“Really?” Darcy screeched. “’Cause normally people who live somewhere step foot in the fucking premises every so often!”

Clint was staring at her like she was crazy. “What’s the matter with you? Why are you so angry?”

Oh no he didn’t. He did not get to waltz back into her life after months of nothing and make her out to be the crazy one. “Who wouldn’t be angry? You’ve been missing for three months!” Her gaze fell on box of Fruit Loops on the table. It was empty. “And you ate all my cereal!”

Clint held out a hand. “Baby – “

She threw herself at him, his name a broken sob as she buried her face in his chest. He was thinner than she remembered, but his arms were still strong as they wrapped around her. She leaned into him as he swayed back and forth, murmuring her name as he pressed kisses to the top of her head. “I thought you were dead,” she whispered.

“Not dead,” he corrected. “Just … indisposed.”

Darcy pulled back slightly and studied Clint through narrowed eyes. There were dark circles under his eyes and a gash in his cheek that was still healing despite the stitches. He smelled faintly like the ocean. “Are you gonna tell me what happened?” She looked away long enough to take in the small group of people watching through the doorway of the connecting dining room. “And maybe introduce me to your friends?”

Clint sighed and turned around, tucking Darcy to his side as he did so. “Everyone, this is Darcy. Darcy, this is -- well, I don’t think we’re Avengers anymore.”

“You could go with fugitives,” the guy with short brown hair in the back of the group suggested with a shrug. “I’m used to it.”

The tall blond stepped forward and held out his hand. “I apologize for the inconvenience, Miss Lewis, but we had nowhere else to go.”

Darcy shook it dumbly. It was Captain America. In her kitchen. Shaking her hand. And she was wearing her pajamas and hadn’t showered in …

“Darcy?” Clint asked. “Are you OK?”

“Um …” Darcy looked around the room. Captain America. Scarlett Witch. Falcon and whoever the brunette was were watching her with wary eyes. They looked exhausted. Now was not the time to panic. “We’re out of cereal,” she said finally. “But give me 20 minutes and I’ll have pancakes.”

There was a collective sigh as the (former?) superheroes visibly relaxed. She watched as they shuffled back into the dining room, grabbing chairs around the oversized table that had never been used until that morning.

“I owe you one,” Clint told Darcy as he helped her gather ingredients.

“You owe me more than one, buddy,” she retorted. “I’m gonna start collecting as soon as breakfast’s finished.”

**Author's Note:**

> I so love Clint and Darcy stories. I don't know why I don't write them as a couple more.


End file.
